


Darling, So It Goes

by angvlicmish



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Depression, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2020-11-28 05:09:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20960996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angvlicmish/pseuds/angvlicmish
Summary: Dean and Castiel are on another first date after they've drifted apart and Dean so desperately wants it to work out but does Castiel feel the same?





	Darling, So It Goes

**Author's Note:**

> This is something I wrote a little while ago now and thought I should finally post it here! Hope you enjoy :))

How did we get here, Dean thinks as he restlessly taps his fingers on his knee, staring out the front windshield of the impala to the film flickering in front of him. 

He squirms in his seat as he notices the couple in the car next to his passionately making out, the dude still holding a milkshake -- a recipe for disaster if he's ever seen one. He subtly flicks his eyes over to Castiel beside him, casually laid back against the seat, hair just that side of messy, jaw outlined in the lights flooding down on them from the drive in. His lips are soft. And Dean would kiss him. If only Castiel wasn't scrolling mindlessly on his phone, not giving a care in the world that they're supposed to be on a date. If only Castiel didn't hate him.

He wants to yank it out of his hands and throw it out the window. But he doesn't think that would end particularly well. So, instead, he finally opens his mouth -- the first to speak since they parked -- and says, "Are you even gonna watch the movie?" He doesn't hide the utter hopelessness that drips from his tone. 

Castiel finally glances up from his phone, eyes boring into Dean's own. A few moments of silence pass between them before Castiel responds, "Seen it before."

Dean's eyes flutter shut. "Didn't think to tell me that before we bought tickets?" When he opens his eyes, Castiel's back to scrolling through his phone.

"What does it matter?" Castiel says, not even bothering to look up. Dean stares back out the front windshield, teeth grinding together. 

_How did we get here?_

"Are you even going to try?" he says miserably.

Castiel stills then, thumb hovering over his phone screen. His eyes are like stone when they peer up at Dean. "Try?" he repeats, voice hard.

Dean sets his jaw, not letting his eyes flick away from Castiel's gaze. "Yeah. Try. Because if you didn’t get the memo this is supposed to be a date. And you haven't said two words nor looked up from your phone for more than three seconds this entire time."

Castiel rolls his eyes. "You know what I think's weird? That not two years ago we had been dating for a whole year and half, friends longer before that, and yet somehow, we're back to the first date another year and a half later." _After you went away_, goes left unsaid but Dean can hear it clear enough. "Says a lot about this relationship, doesn't it?"

"Well, maybe we should talk about it."

"What's there to talk about? It all seems pretty cut and dry to me." 

Dean huffs. "Right. And that's why you haven't even bothered to listen to my side of the story?"

"Why would I? I got it clear alright, what with all the fun you were having and with all the calls and texts you were sending your fucking boyfriend."

Dean's hands grip his knees tightly, chest aching. "What? So, for a whole year on exchange I'm not allowed to have fun?"

A breathy laugh falls from Castiel's lips. "That's what you're getting from this? Of course you were. That's all I wanted. But when that's all I saw, you posting shit with new friends at party after party and me sitting here with no texts from you, well how do you think that felt?" His eyes are pained now and guilt wells up inside of Dean. 

Because-- "It's not like that and if you would just listen to me, you would know that," he says, raising his voice, frustration getting the better of him.

Castiel shakes his head. "Fine. What was it like, then?" he replies, tone flippant.

"It was…" Dean trails off, words slipping away. Castiel doesn't look surprised and is about to roll his eyes when Dean finally blurts it out. "I didn't know what to say, okay?"

"A 'how are you' would have sufficed," Castiel says, turning to look out the window.

Dean rubs a hand over his face. "It wasn't that easy, alright? Before I left we barely hung out and you barely talked to me and I thought you didn't fucking want me anymore. But you never said anything so I didn't know what to think."

"Maybe because I didn't not want you, Dean. I was struggling and I needed you but you weren't there."

"Well, how was I supposed to know? You never told me that," he says, desperate now. 

"What? That I needed you?" Castiel says, incredulous as he faces Dean once more. "I shouldn’t have to say it, Dean, you were my boyfriend. My _best_ friend."

Guilt and shame gnaw at him as he observes the way Castiel holds his emotions back. He knows the look. Seen it many times before. In the year and a half they were together. In the years before even that. 

"I didn't know you were struggling, okay? And maybe that makes me a fucking idiot but I didn't ever forget about you." Castiel's eyes find the film in front of him, unable to look at Dean. "I thought about you every day and I don't care if you don't believe me but it's the truth."

He doesn't know what he expects. For Castiel to fold, to curl into him, say it's okay and they'll be fine but he doesn't say anything. Just continues staring out the window. 

He opens his phone and begins scrolling again through whatever he was looking at. 

Dean runs a hand through his hair, shaking his head. "Why did you even say yes to this if you've already made your mind up about me? Why even bother coming anyway?" 

He's expecting some form of a death glare when he looks over to Castiel but all he finds is a pair of sad, blue eyes. 

And then, "I need to use the bathroom," and Castiel’s swiftly stepping out of the car and slamming the door behind him before Dean can stop him. Dean watches him go, more confused now than ever. He rests his head against the steering wheel once he disappears from sight. Why does Castiel even care? He hates Dean -- that is quite possibly the clearest thing of all. 

And yet, Castiel honestly looked like he was about to cry after Dean said that. 

He slumps back against the seat, eyes slipping shut. 

_How did we get here?_

Oh, how he wishes he could turn back time, do it all over again.

It all began before he left. Castiel had been acting strange. From Dean's perspective it just appeared like he never wanted to hang out or talk anymore. Never wanted to come out with friends -- was always studying, studying, studying.

And when he did hang out with Dean, he was more closed off. Dean was sure this was the end. That Castiel didn't want him anymore, that Castiel didn't care about him anymore, that Castiel didn't even _like_ him anymore. But nothing happened. The words, 'we should break up' never left Castiel's lips or came through in a daunting text. 

So, as planned Dean went away on his exchange for the second year of university. He went all the way to England and for the first few weeks, he forgot about their troubles, too busy to think about anything other than adjusting to his new life for the next year. 

But after that was over, and he suddenly had time to think, he went back to worrying -- to not understanding. Because Castiel rarely ever wanted to skype or call, instead settling for texting -- but even then, he always took days to respond and it was hard to believe that things were okay. 

Dean didn't know what to say. Suddenly, all their usual banter slipped away and it was left with…well, nothing. Dean thought about it every night he was away -- thought of saying something, asking about it -- are we okay? But what if that ended in Castiel saying no, what if that ended in them done. So, he didn't say anything.

And that was what ended them. They drifted apart. Went from speaking every day to not speaking at all. And when Dean came back, Castiel wasn't at the gate to greet him. But why would he be? They hadn't spoken in months. Neither of them had said anything but he knew. He knew they were over.

So, he didn't go around to Castiel's house when he came back. Only sulked in his room before going out to start the day -- whatever that entailed. 

Until one day his mum caught up with Castiel's mum. His family hadn't said much about the two of them when he got back. But he knew that they all knew something had gone wrong -- what with the way they looked at him -- and none of them had seen Castiel around much either. And suddenly they knew why. Because his mum came home after catching up with Naomi to tell him that Castiel hadn’t been doing well. He'd been struggling. He'd been depressed. Badly. He's doing better now though, she’d said. As if that would make it better. 

And Dean didn’t know what to think. But all he could feel was guilt. And the feeling of being lost. So lost. What does he do now? He didn't even know where to begin. How does he just rock up to Castiel's door after not a month of a word between them and start a conversation about _this_?

It turned out he didn't have to. He saw Castiel on campus one day and after standing frozen for a whole minute went over and said hi. To his former best friend. To his former boyfriend. 

And he saw it immediately. The difference. Castiel used to be so joy free, always smiling and making polite friends with everyone around him. But when he saw him sitting there, he saw none of that. He was guarded and alone but didn’t seem to give two shits. He also didn't seem to give two shits about Dean, whom he stared at for a few seconds before turning back to the book in his lap. 

It was a terrible conversation. Stilted at first, Dean asking questions and Castiel giving short answers to them. Until he'd asked Castiel if he wanted to go out and begrudgingly Castiel had said okay. 

And here they are. Well, here he is. Still not knowing what to say. Only knowing that he should've seen it earlier. Should've known Castiel needed him. 

Not that he can change it now. 

The only thing he can change is how Castiel sees him. Because it's clear he hates his guts. But even if this doesn't work out, Dean just wants him to know that he never forgot about him. He just misunderstood. 

Dean peers out through the window to see if Castiel's coming back but there's still no sign of him. He wonders if he's just decided to walk home. He huffs, tapping his fingers on his thighs when he spots something out of the corner of his eye. Castiel's phone. It must have fallen out of his pocket onto the seat when he left.

Dean peers out through the window once more before he bites his lip and grabs it. He turns it on and unsurprisingly the lock screen picture that used to be of him has been replaced to a picture of a flower. Dean doesn't know the name of it. But he knows it's Castiel's favourite. 

It almost draws a smile out of him but the ache in his chest is too present. He almost puts it back down when he feels something bulky at the back of the phone. Flipping it in his hand, he sees there's something shoved underneath the case. He hesitates a moment, not sure if he should be invading Castiel's privacy like this but it could just be money or his license of whatever it is people usually stash back there. 

With that in mind, he peels the case off to find a small piece of tough paper folded in half. Perhaps it's just a note - a reminder, he thinks as he turns to see if anything's on the other side. That’s when he sees that he’s wrong.

It's a polaroid picture. 

Of them. 

Dean remembers it. It wasn't from any special occasion. They were curled up in bed on a cold day talking about whatever it was on their minds. And they had taken a picture.

Dean's not looking at the camera though. He's looking at Castiel. Castiel who has a small, sweet smile on his face. And he's looking at him like he's staring at the stars themselves. 

Dean feels his throat clog up, chest tightening. The paper is creased, looking as though it's been folded and unfolded multiple times. 

Why would he…

The car door whips open and Castiel sits down heavily beside him before Dean can put the photo back. His eyes go wide when he spots what Dean's holding. 

"What the fuck, Dean!" He reaches for both the photo and his phone, ripping it out of his hands.

"I'm sorry, Cas, I just…" Dean's mouth hangs open, unable to form words. Why does he still have that picture if he hates him? 

"Just what? Was snooping around in my stuff? Christ," Castiel mutters, fumbling with folding the photo before eventually just shoving it in his pocket. "Can we go now. Please," he says, almost begging. And he sounds utterly miserable.

Dean can't stop staring at him though.

"I thought you hated me," he says and Castiel huffs, running a hand through his hair.

"I've never hated you." 

Dean's eyebrows pull together. "What?" 

Castiel doesn't respond, tucked into the corner seemingly as far away from Dean as possible. Dean takes a deep breath. "Well, why are you hating on me for what happened if you don't actually hate me?" And it sounds stupid when he puts it into words. But he wants to know.

Castiel rests his head against the window, hands held tightly together in his lap. His eyes slip closed and when he speaks, his voice is quiet. "Because maybe hating you and pretending you're a selfish asshole is easier than facing the fact that maybe no one cares enough about me to notice when I'm not okay."

It's all suddenly very quiet. And Dean's heart breaks. "Cas, that’s – it’s not true. I noticed, I did. I just…I thought it meant something else." Castiel stays curled against the door. "I didn't know.” 

But how could he not have known. He knows Castiel better than anyone. And yet here they are. His best friend in the whole world, a sad shell of what he used to be. All alone in his suffering. 

"You should've told me," he says, and the sudden urge to reach out grips him. 

Castiel's jaw ticks and when he turns to face Dean, his eyes are shimmering with tears. "How could I? I couldn't have just waltzed into your room one day and told you that I hate myself and every night I'm up crying for hours for no reason and that I have no idea why you even like me in the first place and I have no idea why I’m even _like this _in the first place." He understands that it's all part of it. But hearing Castiel say it with such conviction -- it hurts.

"But I could have stayed with you."

"No, that's not what I wanted. I wouldn't want you to miss out on life. I would never forgive myself. I just…" Castiel sniffles, wiping his cheek with the palm of his hand. "I just wanted to know that someone noticed. I just wanted someone to ask if I was okay. To talk to me,” he mutters, voice soft as he fiddles with the sleeve of his jacket, eyes trained on his lap. 

_To talk to me_. So simple. And it's all he wanted.

"But…" Dean swallows, not liking the way it sounds like an excuse, because there should be none, "you never wanted to call."

Castiel sniffs again, fingers now tracing over the hem of his sleeve. "I know," he responds softly. "I just thought that if we did, I would finally have to tell you. And I couldn't." Castiel's voice breaks over his last word and Dean's hand reaches out only to find itself dropping away quickly, not sure if it's wanted.

"Cas," he breathes out.

"It doesn't matter now," Castiel says flippantly, his tone suggesting that the conversation is now over. But Dean won't let it be.

"It does. I know you're doing better now but I can still be here for you. We can start over," Dean says, hoping desperately and at the same time trying to keep the hope at bay.

Castiel shakes his head. "You shouldn't. I'm different now." He brushes a tear from his cheek. "You won't like me." 

Dean's heart sinks and he can't sit here uselessly any longer, finally shuffling across the seat until he's brushing up against Castiel. Castiel peers up at him, eyes wide and…and hopeful.

He reaches for one of Castiel's hands and grips it in his own, thumb smoothing up and down his skin. Castiel's hand stays limp, not reacting. 

Dean swallows. "Don't you think that should be up to me to decide." Castiel's shoulders shudder as he exhales and suddenly his eyes are welled up with tears and he's crying. Dean doesn't hesitate, curling his arms around Castiel and pulling him to his chest, chin atop his best friend's head. 

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, this is my fault," Castiel mumbles against his chest, shoulders trembling, hands gripping at Dean's shirt. 

Dean threads a hand through Castiel's hair, holding him as close as he can. "It's not your fault, Cas, okay? What happened happened. And I wish it never happened, I wish I'd actually fucking talked to you and was there for you but we can't change that. But we're here now though, right?" A broken sob falls from Castiel's lips as he half-heartedly nods into Dean's chest. And Dean doesn't know what he's saying - doesn't know if it's the right thing but he has to start somewhere. It's long overdue. 

His hands find Castiel's wet cheek, his thumb grazing up and down his jaw. "And if you let me, I'm gonna show you how much you're cared for." Dean lets out a shaky exhale of his own, his chest a tidal wave of emotions. "Gonna show you how much I love you," he whispers, and Castiel grips his shirt tighter, curling into him further. And they sit there for a long while until the tears subside, until their breathing has returned to normal.

And when it does, Castiel finally lifts his head, eyes pained but tinged with that hope now and he rests his forehead against Dean's, their breaths mingling, warm in the cool air of the car. Dean sighs against him. 

"I missed you so much." And it's like something has finally lifted from his shoulders. He can feel it in Castiel too, the lightness surrounding them.

"I missed you too," Castiel says, and his eyes are shining when they gaze into Dean's. It's slow, hesitant but finally a hand comes up to settle on Dean's cheek and then with a few exchanged looks, lips are on his own, gentle and warm and Dean's chest expands, the pressure releasing and a tear finds its way down his cheek. When they finally pull away, Castiel's eyes don't stray from his own. He wipes away the tear with his thumb and Dean can see the thoughts turning over inside his head.

"So…" he says, so quiet Dean can barely hear him above the noise of the film. "We should start over?"

Dean smiles. "Wherever you want." 

When Castiel smiles, his heart swells. It's beautiful.

"I love you. You believe me, don't you?" Castiel says, like suddenly it's the easiest thing in the world. And suddenly after all that's happened, everything feels easy.

"Yeah." Dean takes his hand in his own and finally Castiel's hand squeezes back in return. "I believe you."

**Author's Note:**

> Comment below or leave some kudos if you enjoyed! Thanks so much for reading ♥


End file.
